


Suburbia

by KageHinaTBH



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alcohol induced thoughts, I suck at tags, M/M, Observational fic, Song Based, Suburbia, barely any plot, enjoy, i guess, kinda sad, klance, modern au??, um yeah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 12:14:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9820106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KageHinaTBH/pseuds/KageHinaTBH
Summary: In which Keith had lost his suburbia. The suburbia given to him by the one and only, Lance McClain.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Do I ever write anything happy? Nope, lmao
> 
> Well, enjoy this train wreck of my thoughts.

Small worlds, small towns. This universe seems so absolutely complicated, yet really, it’s so simple. Life is your ideas. Everyone knows everyone. The world isn’t as terrifying as it seems. Every area of its own is simply suburbia. No matter how “urban” the place may be. In retrospect, it’s all just small. A small world. A simple mistake cannot simply pass by, as the world is too small to allow so. Day in and day out, mistakes are made. Do those mistakes ever disappear? Of course not. We are all left with a memory of these mistakes. Some painful, some opposite. It is because of this so very small world, that I cannot properly live. The mistakes of my past, haunting me constantly. Suburbia. Something I’ve grown to hate. Something that shows you just how small everything is. No matter how much noise. No matter how many people, lights, or any other aspect of this life. Everything is still so simple. Still so easy. Letting go of people seems easy. There’s many more, right? The world is full of many different backgrounds, many different routines, and many different personalities. That’s what makes up a person. Therefore, it seems so simple to just… let someone go. Even after forcing yourself to move on, to believe it’s easy, you’re left with the empty feeling that it isn’t. And you’re absolutely right. It is not easy. In fact, it may be the most difficult thing in the world. This life is full of many people, but dear god does it hurt when you realize the person gone from your life, was the only one that could fill that void. Leaving behind someone you don’t love, sure. Easy. Someone you loved with every morsel of your god-forsaken being? Not so easy. Of course, me, being the absolute idiot with the name of Keith Kogane, did exactly that. 

Lance McClain. The man I was convinced I had for eternity. The one whom I gave many firsts. I gave him every bit of energy I could give, still attempting to suffice for my wellbeing. The man of my (not-so-innocent) dreams (but we’ll leave that part out). We had created our own world. A world that made me first believe in suburbia. A world that made me realize how separated and at peace the world is. We were the only ones, dreaming our lives throughout this suburban utopia we had formed. The sunsets seemed to be much longer. The sky, more blue. The weights of life so much lighter. The downfalls much lower, and peaks much higher. Life in this suburbia was simple. It was almost as if put into a constant dream. That was exactly how I felt, with him by my side. Invincible, if you must. A life that lasts forever, yet a wonderful life at that. The world was much clearer, more beautiful than anyone could have ever fathomed through the cloudy eyes we were all born with. Lance McClain seemed to be the only one without those eyes. He had eyes of never ending blue. Eyes of absolute paradise. One look into his eyes, and yours were clear. He was the one person in the world that could set anyone free, with just one glance. 

I had been set free. Though, if I really have, then why am I lying on the cold linoleum floor, bottles of liquid courage and happiness, scattered around me? Bottles of hope for this cold, dark world, yet they only make me feel the opposite. I feel lost, empty, and utmost afraid. Scared to face the horrors of this world. I no longer have a physical hope to hold on to at night. I no longer have a safe haven that I can cling to when I’m shown the dangers of life. I no longer… have him. I no longer have Lance McClain. All because I’m an idiot. A major, hot headed, idiot. All I can do now, is lay here. Let my hot tears bounce off of the cold ground, and continue to drink. Nothing could get my mind off of this, of course. Not even the stacked up cans and broken glass bottles scattered around, that were supposed to make me happy. I’m not at all sad, nor angry. I’m not anything, honestly. Just empty. Left alone in this clutter of the mess we call “life”. Is it even called living when all you want to be is the opposite? Is it even called living if you can’t get yourself off the god damned ground because you’re too broken? Not at all. This isn’t living. This isn’t simple. This is definitely not suburbia. This is insanity. This is being lost in the hurricane of urban difficulty, searching for the eye of the storm, “suburbia”, that no longer exists. You’re stuck in a constant storm of uncertainty, lost without a clue on what to do. You’ve lost ability to see the beauty of the colors in this world. Every color of the painful memories, only being of the one you lost, seemingly gone. The reds of your hot headed self, colliding with the cool blues of him. Those beautiful colors, that worked together under the sun, day in and day out, together. All now faded. Faded to shades of nearly pink and baby blue with hints of grey. After those colors fade, you begin to realize how much you loved those colors. The red and blue that ruled the world together. Nothing could stop them. They painted the world purple, the color of them both.

Purple. A beautiful color. But not so much any longer. Purple, the color that was able to dominate the world, now completely gone. The only colors left, are the faded pigments of the lasting people you were. Red and blue. Two dynamics that changed the world. Without these colors, nothing seemed right. The sky is no longer beautiful in the day, as it lost its blue. The sunsets are no longer the same, as the fierce reds that once danced across the clouds, longing for an effect of serenity, have left. The fire and ice of the world. The fire and ice of suburbia. Gone. Snatched out of your hands like a toy from a child. It all seems to go by so quick. 

The world spins, and maybe that’s the drinks, but at this moment it all seems so clear. There is no suburbia. Liar. Lance McClain lied. And I had finally figured out his secret. He was the only one without those clouded eyes, because he merely lied to himself as well. He chose to make the whole world believe there was hope. Although that was admirable, that wouldn’t bring him back. 

_And it most definitely would not give back the visions of beautiful sunsets and perfectly-painted clouds of suburbia he had once given me._


End file.
